The China Doll (27 page)

Emily threw up her hands at Mitch, who looked
like he'd just been punched. She walked to Richard and Miranda. Her
mouth was opened expectantly, and Richard nodded his head. "Square
one, I’m afraid."

Emily nodded. "Lucky for you, I’ve had a lot
of practice making do without."

"We’ll need that expertise. Things area about
to get very lean," Richard said solemnly, but then smiled. Just
then, he saw Robert talking to Zainab. "Excuse me," he murmured. He
walked over to them, but then Zainab went to Emily and Miranda
while Richard and Robert began a heated argument.

Zainab put her arms around Miranda and
Emily’s necks. "Well, ladies. Do you think we’ve had enough
excitement this week?"

Miranda put her head on Zainab’s arm. "A
lifetime," she sighed.

"Hey, how come I wasn’t invited to the
huddle?" Jessie demanded as she put her arms around the Emily and
Miranda’s waists.

"Oh, Jess!" Emily cried, and then she and
Zainab hugged her tightly. Jessie didn’t pretend that she was
bothered. "We could have lost you, and then what would we have
done?"

Jess’s eyes filled with tears, and she
quickly wiped them away. "Hey, it’s going to take a lot more than a
psycho family to get rid of me."

Zainab rubbed her back. "We’re your family,"
she corrected. "Don’t ever forget it." Jessie nodded, then looked
away before she’d start crying again.

"All set?" she asked Miranda.

"All set."

Jessie inhaled. "Dude, I never thought I’d
see the day when I preferred Michael to Alex."

Zainab laughed. "Jessie, you preferred a
convent to Alex."

"Yeah, but I preferred Hell to Michael."

Emily smiled. "I would have shot him years
ago then."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Alright, just for
that, I’m not paying you any rent for the first month."

"Huh?"

Miranda smiled. "I have a feeling Richard’s
going to need the space in the old Hendrickson homestead for a
little while, and since everyone knows that I’m Hellie’s absolute
favorite person—"

"No, that’s me!" Jessie said indignantly.
"And if you’re moving in, I’m moving in."

Emily sighed, relieved. "Good, good, good.
That many more reasons not to let Mitch move back in."

Just then, Jessie loosened her grip. They
turned in the direction she was looking and saw Martin walk into
the waiting room. He smiled at Jessie but walked over to Mitch who
was still staring at Emily. They talked for a moment, then Martin
walked over to Robert and Richard. He tapped Richard on the
shoulder. Richard looked taken aback, but took a step away as
Martin pointed his finger into Robert's chest.

In two minutes, Robert’s expression changed
from one of amusement to one of resentful acquiescence. "And don’t
think I’m kidding either!" Martin said before he walked toward
Jessie.

"Then again," Jessie said as she walked to
meet him.

"Hey," Martin said, looking eye to eye with
her.

"Hey yourself," Jessie said as she smiled.
"What’s up?"

"So your dad’s alive after all?"

"Yeah. Bummer."

"And you clocked him on the head?"

"Yeah."

"Didn’t he have a gun? Weren’t there other
people with guns?"

Jessie shrugged. "I’ve been taken care of for
so long, I figured it was time to pull my weight and return the
favor."

"That’s funny, because I always thought you
did an awesome job taking care of yourself."

She smiled. "I learned from the best."

"You must have...he must be. Because you’re
awesome and..." Martin shook his head. "Okay, Jess. I’ve been such
an ass. I am so sorry. I was totally BS-ing you about the age
thing. I mean, I was, but I wasn’t. I’ve thought you were the
hottest girl I’ve ever seen since you were sixteen. And yeah, the
age difference does totally freak me out, but that’s not it. I
mean, seriously, why would someone as gorgeous and hot and smart
and so obviously cool and brave want to be with me? I didn’t know
what the Hell you thought you saw in me, but I was pretty sure it
was going to take about ten seconds into our first date for you to
realize that it was just a figment of your imagination, and I’m too
weak to take that kind of rejection.

"And then Mitch told me about that poser cop
over there and I know I should have rushed to your house at that
moment, but I didn’t think you wouldn’t hate me for being such a
loser in the first place. But then he told me about your therapist,
or your dad, or whatever...and I’ve probably said a hundred things
in the last minute to make you realize that you really don’t want
to be with someone like me after all, but I decided that if I
really want to be a nice guy—Oof!"

Jessie had been nodding along the entire
time, but at that moment shrugged and pulled Martin into a kiss.
Everyone in the waiting room stared, most open-mouthed. Martin’s
eyes popped for a second, then he grabbed the back of Jessie’s
head. Lucy walked into the waiting room and gasped, but Richard
shook his head before she could do anything stupid.

Two minutes later, Jessie pulled back.
"Martin, you are the funniest, most gorgeous guy I have ever met,
but has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"

"No, but what did they know?" he answered
before he pulled her in for another kiss.

Mitch looked at Emily, who smiled despite
herself.

Jessie and Martin stopped kissing and giggled
to themselves before she took his hand and walked out of the
waiting room with him.

Miranda started laughing as soon as they were
gone. Emily tried to shush her, but then started laughing herself.
Zainab joined in after a moment, in part because Martin and Jessie
looked so happy, and in part because she needed a good laugh.

"Okay, okay!" Emily said, waving her hand and
trying not to laugh. "So, let me guess, Miranda—you’ve got to go
check on Michael, right?"

Miranda tried to stifle a giggle. "Yeah,
that’s probably a good idea. But," she said as seriously as she
could, "my stuff and I are coming over tonight."

"Alright! And what about you, Z? Are you
going to give him Mister Martyr another chance?"

Zainab punched Emily’s shoulder. "You first,
Little Miss Vengeful!"

Emily shook her head. "So I guess it’s just
the three of us."

Miranda smiled. "That sounds pretty good to
me."

Jessie Bartolome has been with me almost as
long as her best friend Miranda Harel, and she's arguably gone
through a lot more changes. Barely teenaged me conceived her as a
fragile victim, but by the time I was ready to tackle her story,
she demanded to be a strong, independent and cynical young woman.
Fragile? Perhaps more than she would let on, but steadfastly not a
victim.

I recognized early on that Jessie's story
seemed over the top; all I can tell you is that I have met many,
many women whose stories make hers look tame. I dedicate this story
to all of the women I know who are not only survivors and fighters
but also winners. I also dedicate this to those who fought just as
hard but lost, through no fault of their own.

As usual, my first thanks must go to my
wonderful editor Heather Rick. She went above and beyond for this
one, and words can't fully express my gratitude. Keri Knutson once
again made me grin from ear to ear when I saw the magic she could
work for my cover. I'm humbled by her hard work, especially because
I realize that at least half the reason a reader will take that
extra second to pause over my book is because of it. Special thanks
to Danielle-Claude Ngontang Mba for suggesting the original
concept.

"Beta reader" doesn't do justice to what the
following people did after they read this manuscript. Thank you
Danielle, Kay Froebel, Erin Cawood, Caroline Fardig, Sheryl Light,
Allie Gillies, Penelope Nam-Stephen and Suzanne Nam for your
feedback and comments. Special props to Caroline for making me
laugh to the point of tears with her characterization of one
particular character.

Beyond their official team, most authors are
well-advised to have a group of people they can go to for
brainstorming, venting and all of the other crazy things writers
need to get off their chests and out of their heads so they can
move onto the next beat of their story. Carolyn Ridder Aspenson,
Matthew Nicely, Elle Chardou, Jim Grenier and of course Erin and
Danielle are among those who kept me sane long enough to see this
through.

E-publishing has matured to the point that
throwing your book on Amazon isn't going to guarantee that someone
will see or buy it. A huge thank you to all of the bloggers who
helped me promote my work so far, with special thanks going to
Jaidis Shaw of Juniper Grove Book Solutions, Kay Froebel, Louise
Wise, Karen E. Martin, Diantha Jones, Courtney Giardina, Lisette
Brodey, Monique McDonell, Sarah Bell, Chrissy from Every Free
Chance, Tim Flanagan, Dizzy C's Little Book Blog, Crimson Flower
Reviews, Thea Atkinson and Lisa Stull. And a big, grateful hug to
my friends and family who have done the same, including Odessa
Cozzolino, Nicole DeSmet, Karen Idra, Susan Downs, Liseli Mulala,
Ginnette Powell, Michelle von Vogler and Eileen Prince.

Thank you to my children Samantha, Jazmyn,
Jacob and Simon for making sure I stay on my toes and for
clarifying my goals, and to my husband Michael for believing that I
can and should do this.

Finally, thank you to all of the readers who
took a chance on my work. I try to make sure every day that I don't
disappoint you.

An excerpt from the next book in The New
Pioneers...

Safe to say that no one's life is going to
be the same after everything that happened. Question is, can they
make it better?

He was waiting in the little diner they’d
agreed on. It was an all-night spot he’d started visiting when he
was in college. Sometimes he liked to come back now and then. He
kept thinking it would make him feel better to reflect on how much
things had changed since then. But it didn’t. It only reminded him
of how much things had stayed the same. He wanted her to meet him
there because he felt like maybe things finally had.

He saw her walking down the stairs and
straightened up. He wasn’t cool enough not to, although he did
try.

She didn’t smile when she saw him, but he
smiled anyway. He stood up as she came nearer. "Can I get your
coat?"

"It’s sort of cold," she said.

"I’ll order you some coffee."

"What if I want hot chocolate instead?"

"I’ll even throw in the marshmallows."

She handed him her coat. She sat down as he
hung it up. The waitress came over and he ordered the hot
chocolate. "Are you hungry?" he said.

"I didn’t think I was staying that long," she
said.

"Maybe I can change your mind."

She tapped her fingers on the table, but she
didn’t take her eyes off of him. "I think I misunderstood when I
got the call—"

"I guess I was banking on that," he said
honestly. "But did you really...misunderstand?"

"I certainly didn’t think dinner was what you
had in mind."

"They make a really good burger here."

"I’m disappointed. I thought for sure that
you would have known that I didn’t eat that much red meat."

"So just eat a little now."

"What else do they have?"

"The fries are pretty good."

"Guess that goes with the burgers."

"And then there’s the ice cream."

"Again, it’s cold." He smiled, and she did
too.

"You have a very nice smile."

"That’s an old line."

"But it’s true. You do. And you don’t do it
enough."

"I guess you haven’t seen me at my
happiest."

"Do you still blame me for that?"

She sighed. "I never blamed you for
that."

The waitress came back with the hot
chocolate. He looked at her for a moment, then ordered two burgers.
She shrugged, but didn’t say anything.

"For what it’s worth, I’m still sorry."

"Really? Or am I just easy to apologize
to?"

"There is that, but everyone else seems to
be...back to business as usual."

"Not quite," she said as she sipped her hot
chocolate. "And you know that. Frankly, I’m not sure you’re very
sorry about that."

"Maybe half-sorry," he conceded.

"More for what it means that you did it than
what it means to them?"

"I’m not a nice guy," he said. "I’ve never
pretended to be."

"Maybe, but I think you’ve pretended to be a
lot worse than you really are."

"I’m not pretending now." She held his gaze,
but didn’t say anything. The food arrived, and he picked up a
french fry.

"Your food will get cold," she said after a
moment.

"Yours too."

"But I think you’re hungrier."

He put the French fry down and put his chin
on his hand. "Anyone ever tell you that you are one cool
customer?"

She shook her head. "No. No one has ever said
that to me ever," she said honestly. "And I don’t think I am."

"Then what is it?"

She thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I
don’t know. I think I just don’t know how to do games very well. I
was never very good at it, which probably explains my non-existent
dating in high school. And now I think I probably could, but I
don’t want to."

"And yet you’re still here."

"I said I didn’t want to play games. I didn’t
say I didn’t want to see you."

"So...cards on the table?"

"Why not?"

"Fine," he said, crossing his arms on the
table as if he were hugging himself. "I knew who you were before
that night, but I didn’t get a very good look until then, I swear.
That’s important, because I don’t want you to think that I did what
I did to get you here. But I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t a
big, fat bonus. Because you’re gorgeous—you know that—and...real. I
know you don’t play games, and I like that. And anyone who had you
and didn’t appreciate you doesn’t deserve you."